The Young Trooper Cut Down in His Prime

As I was a-walkin' down by the Royal Arsenal,
Early the morning though 'warm was the day,
When who should I see but one of my comrades,
All wrapped up in flannel, and cold as the clay.
Then beat the drum slowly and play your fife slowly,
And sound the dead march as you carry me along;
And fire your bundooks right over my coffin,
For I’m a young trooper cut down in my prime.
The bugles were playin'; his mates were a-prayin',
The chaplain was kneelin' down by his bed;
His poor head was achin', his poor heart was breakin',
This poor young trooper cut down in his prime.
Then beat the drum slowly and play your fife slowly,
And sound the dead march as you carry me along;
And fire your bundooks right over my coffin,
For I’m a young trooper cut down in my prime.
Get six of my comrades to carry my coffin,
Six of my comrades to carry me on high;
And six young maidens to carry white roses,
So they won’t smell me as they pass me by.
Then beat the drum slowly and play your fife slowly,
And sound the dead march as you carry me along;
And fire your bundooks right over my coffin,
For I’m a young trooper cut down in my prime.
Outside of the barracks you will find two girls standin',
And one to the other she whispered and said:
«Here comes the young swaddy Whose money we squandered,
Here comes the young trooper cut down in his prime.»
Then beat the drum slowly and play your fife slowly,
And sound the dead march as you carry me along;
And fire your bundooks right over my coffin,
For I’m a young trooper cut down in my prime.
On the cross by his grave you will find these words written:
«All you young troopers take warnin' by me;
Keep away from them flash-girls who walk in the city;
Flash-girls of the city have quite ruined me.»
Then beat the drum slowly and play your fife slowly,
And sound the dead march as you carry me along;
And fire your bundooks right over my coffin,
For I’m a young trooper cut down in my prime.